


The Day of Devotion

by Torpor



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series
Genre: Awkward Flirting, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:48:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28284996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Torpor/pseuds/Torpor
Summary: Zelgius gets roped into participating in a tournament during the Day of Devotion, all for the sweetest prize of all: a kiss from the summoner.
Relationships: Summoner | Eclat | Kiran/Zelgius
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	The Day of Devotion

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my drafts for a long time. I know it's not the right time of year to post it, but I was excited when I found it, so here it is. I'm going to try and have a Christmas thing up soon.

“Commander, a question if I may be so bold…” Zelgius kept his tone even and non-confrontational, but he couldn’t help but feel a little out of sorts as he stared down at the pile of clothing she’d just plopped down in front of him.

“What’s wrong, General?” She sounded innocent, but he could see that gleam in her eye. This woman was up to something. Again. And this time, he was being pulled along. 

“What… are these?” He knew very well what they were. He would recognize the traditional clothing of his homeland anywhere, so perhaps the question he  _ should _ be asking is  _ why _ and  _ where _ she even got them. 

“Well, they’re clothes! I thought maybe you’d like to go to the festival in town, since everyone else is. We haven’t had much time to unwind and spend time with each other outside of battle… so…” She shrugged, innocent smile still firmly in place, which only made him feel more wary. 

“And what might you be doing?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. She’d get around to the truth eventually if he kept prodding, just as she had the past few times. He’d managed to avoid being roped into playing the ‘Winter’s Envoy’ last time. Narrowly. Evelyn had laughed when Anna suggested it and had looked genuinely disappointed when he’d refused. Maybe… this wouldn’t be so bad, if she were going to be there. They’d not gotten to spend any time together then because… well. He preferred not to think about it.

“Well, I’m glad you asked! If there’s anyone I trust in a tournament, it would be you!” Ah, so there it was. She was after whatever the prize was to fatten their coffers. 

“If it’s jousting, get Seth to do it. I’ve never been good at it.” 

“Well, there is a jousting portion, but I’ve already got that covered. Like you said, Seth is better suited. No, I need you for the duel! Please? We can’t back out and  _ he _ flat out refused,” Anna pleaded. Of course he did. His twin had better sense and cared less about causing offense. “Come on, the stakes are kind of high…”

“What might those be?” By the goddess if she wagered their funds he would--

“A kiss from our very own summoner, of course! That’s the kind of thing you always bet at tourneys. Everyone knows it’s all about the spectacle and romance, and this  **is** the day of devotion. Evelyn might not be much of a maiden anymore, but she  _ did _ agree to it.” Zelgius pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting down his embarrassment at the thought of it all. She agreed to something like that? Now he  _ had _ to win if for no other reason than to preserve her honor. He couldn't make her kiss a stranger, after all. “I figured it needed to be something that both  _ my _ entrant and their opponent could enjoy. If you’re not feeling up to it, I could always ask Ayra…”

“N-no, it’s fine. I don’t mind doing it.” He didn’t want to watch someone else kiss her, and seeing two lovely women kiss often got men disproportionately excited, the pigs. He couldn’t very well allow Evelyn or lady Ayra to be made a spectacle for the enjoyment of others. 

“I figured you wouldn't. Good luck, General! Go ahead and get changed, we’ll be heading in soon.”

“Wha--”

“Oh did I forget to mention that it’s today? Hurry up! You’ll want some time to warm up.”

***

He hated tournaments. He’d always hated them, but here and now he really,  _ really _ hated them. He hated the drama, he hated the time they wasted, he hated the scheming nobility and the subtle plays for power; but most of all he hated the damned costumes. He felt ridiculous. He missed his armor and the steady, reliable weight of Alondite at his hip. What was this stupid looking thing supposed to do for him? Who had decided that a blunted training sword wrapped in silk ribbon and flowers made for a convincing weapon? This was stupid. 

“Hey there, Darlin’.” He yelped as a familiar voice pulled him from his brooding, his face flushing as he realized who was standing near him, her head cocked to the side in bemusement. 

“L-lady Evelyn, ahem… I uh… didn’t hear you come in,” he stammered, his eyes flickering to and away as he realized that they matched. Her dress was not unlike his own clothing, with the same flashes of violet, black and red, but she wore them better than he. He found himself admiring the wreath of wildflowers woven into her ginger hair far longer than he should have. 

“It’s okay, I didn’t mean to startle you. Did you get checked in okay?” She asked, leaning against the wall nearby. He nodded, studying her in more detail. He’d not seen a dress like that in many years, not since he’d watched his sister’s wedding from the loft of their barn. It intrigued him, to say the least; he’d never seen her wearing such form fitting garments before. “You look nice.”

“Er… oh. Thank you… you do, too.” His reply fell flat as he looked at her. Nice was too simple a word. She was radiant, the most  _ sublime _ woman he’d laid eyes on. Maybe she’d find that to be a stupid thing to say, but for him it was true. “Uh, you look beautiful, I mean… I um…”  _ goddess he was dreadful at this _ . If a hole opened beneath him and allowed him to plummet into the earth, he would be grateful if only to escape the embarrassment. Where was all the charm he’d managed to fake during his years in Begnion? Evelyn giggled at his floundering, her freckled cheeks wonderfully pink, which made him feel slightly less stupid, at least. He hoped the flush was from his compliment and not because she was straining to hold back laughter.

“Thank you, Darlin’. Can’t say I’ve heard that one much.” She stepped towards him, tugging a handkerchief from the bodice of her dress. “I came by to give you this, since you know… gotta play along.” She tied the favor around the wrist of his right arm, her thin fingers lingering against the back of his hand a moment before they trailed up his arm. He shuddered at the touch, but said nothing. Now wasn’t really the time, maybe they’d have time later, once this part of the festival was over. Maybe they could wander together… maybe she’d agree to a dance. Maybe he could convince her to grant him a kiss, outside of this whole tournament business. It wouldn’t really count for much under such circumstances, after all. It would mean far more prompted by nothing save her own will. He shook his head, forcing himself back to reality. He needed to keep himself grounded or else he would let everyone down. He had several duels to get to before he needed to worry about the “prize.” 

“Evelyn… I um… hope you will consider spending a little time with me after the tournament… I’d like to… that is to say I… well…” his cheeks were burning, but he forced himself to meet her gaze, taking her small hand in both of his. “I’d like to have you to myself for a time.” Oh that sounded horrible. It made him sound selfish and possessive, neither of which he wanted her to think of him. He wanted her to find him chivalrous and generous, never either of those. He needed to amend himself before he made things worse. “Er, that is if you wish to… I certainly understand if you… would rather… spend it with someone else...” His voice grew small as he trailed off, his heart already hurting at the thought of being rejected. Someone more experienced and suave would likely be a better pick to spend such a day. He was certainly not either of those. 

“I’d love to, Zel. I was hopin’ you'd ask. Well… I’d best take my seat, don’t want them to think I backed out. Come here,” she rose up onto her toes as she tugged him down to a more manageable height, her soft lips pressing against his cheek before brushing softly against the corner of his mouth. It wasn’t quite a kiss, but it was enough to set his heart to racing. “Fight hard, Darlin’.” He stood there frozen as she left him, his heart still roaring in his ears. What a delightful little tease she could be. He took a deep breath and tried to banish the feeling of her lips and fingers from his mind, but they remained stuck. He only hoped they served as encouragement and not distractions later. 

***

Hate tournaments though he did, he still found the crowd’s enthusiasm to be infectious. They enjoyed the spectacle, and the act of watching two skilled fighters duel  _ was  _ enjoyable, but… he didn’t particularly like being the one doing the entertaining. It reminded him too much of how he’d had to entertain the senators. Senator Valtome had been a particularly nasty man. He regretted never getting the chance to snap his neck. Maybe one day. This world was a strange place, after all. 

His opponent was a slender young man, his mousy hair and rosy cheeks lent him a young, gentle air. He looked nervous, which Zelgius couldn’t blame him for. He’d been told that he was intimidating for most of his life. It had always been useful, and it would no doubt be of help here as well. A fight was often won before it even began, after all; and this boy was a stranger. He couldn’t allow a stranger to get that close. 

He waited as the announcer made his introductions and worked to whip the crowd up into a froth. He didn’t listen to what he was saying, nor did it matter. They always said the same things, and the rules of the bout had already been explained. He simply needed to force his opponent to surrender. No need to draw blood, or do any real harm. Out maneuver and over power. Disarm and intimidate. Only being knocked out of bounds or purposefully causing harm to the other fighter would disqualify him, so to him, it meant that almost anything was fair game. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to explain today’s events! First, as you see, we have individual duels. Here, we shall see the most skilled fighters from the world over test themselves against one another! To begin, representing the Dukedom of Arnes, Sir Fritz von Arnes!” the man paused for cheers and applause. Zelgius waited, shifting slightly on the spot as he began to grow restless. He wanted to get this over with so he could get on with his day. He had better things to do than stand around. “And, representing the Kingdom of Askr, Sir Zelgius of Begnion!” Zelgius winced at the way the man pronounced both his name and that of his country, but said nothing. He was unsurprised to hear jeering and booing. They’d likely already decided that  _ he _ would play the villain in this round of duels. He didn’t mind. “Knights! Remember the rules!” Zelgius readied his weapon, ignoring the urge to roll his eyes at how ridiculous it was as he focused on the young man ahead of him. “Fight!”

Zelgius watched as his partner began to take careful, light steps around him. He would allow the boy to glean whatever he wanted to from his stance and the way he held his weapon before launching into the fight. He was feeling generous, he supposed. He deflected the few experimental cuts and thrusts with ease, but remained where he was save to shift to keep his opponent in sight. He wondered vaguely if he realized that he was very much within striking distance-- not for the young Fritz perhaps, but himself. All he would need to do was make a lazy, half hearted thrust and he would hit the boy-- and so he did just that. He took aim and lunged, his movement quick and confident, though it lacked his usual power. Startled, his opponent stumbled back. 

“You’ve had enough time to study, boy. Let us go, now,” he said. Fritz steadied himself and retaliated, though he wasn’t as graceful as a knight should have been. If he had to guess, this boy was still wet behind the ears and unused to combat outside of training drills. Zelgius was silent as he deflected the boy’s blows, never losing ground or halting his advance. If this boy was the best that his Duchy had to offer, then he wanted to offer condolences. He fought the way every half trained lordling did. Badly. Zelgius launched himself into a flurry of blows, each one seeming to rattle the boys teeth as he fought to deflect them, stepping back in hopes of putting distance between them, but Zelgius didn’t let up. He kept pushing and pushing until he saw the boy’s heel slip over the line.

“Out!” The ringmaster shouted, calling an end to their duel. Zelgius nodded and lowered his weapon, stepping away to give his newly defeated opponent space. Fritz smiled apologetically to him, bowing his head slightly. 

“Forgive me, Sir. I fear I’m better with magic than the sword, but… my father insisted.” 

“No need for apologies. Please, enjoy the festival.” Zelgius didn’t let his irritation show. He hated having his time wasted. He’d known many among both Daein and Begnion’s knighthood that enjoyed easy victories, but he didn’t. It was neither fair to his less skilled opponent nor to himself. He only hoped the other four fights he’d eventually find himself in wouldn’t be so dull. 

***

The next two fights were more of the same, though the third at least tried to make it interesting. Zelgius could feel himself getting annoyed, though. He didn’t like being paraded about an arena for the amusement of others with nothing but bouts with unskilled fools barely over the cusp of manhood as compensation. His thoughts once again turned to Evelyn, sitting prominently near the center of the arena, easily visible to the combatants. She looked lovely. He so rarely got to see her hair loose and the way the midday sun seemed to set it afire could make a poet weep. He forced himself to tear his eyes away from her and meet the eyes of his next opponent. 

This man was different than the last three. He was stockier, sturdier, and looked far less intimidated by him. There was an easiness in the way he carried himself, and a confidence in him that the others had lacked. A mercenary, maybe? He’d managed to fight his way through his last three brackets as well, so there was that. He looked a bit tired, though. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen! For this round we have Sir Zelgius and Sir Brecher. Gentlemen, keep the fight clean! Commence!” Brecher didn’t waste time. He darted in immediately, his blade arcing towards Zelgius with speed and accuracy. Ah… so much better. This was a chance to finally stretch his legs and use the skills he’d honed over the years. Zelgius retaliated, putting his strength and reach to good use. Brecher seemed pleased as well. He’d probably been just as bored with the first several fights. The skillful fighters always were. He knew it was so that the final battle was genuinely exciting, but… it made the competitors themselves bored.

“That’s a pretty little dish they’re serving up. She’s with you people, isn’t she?” Brecher asked, his tone guarded as they circled each other. 

“She is.” Zelgius saw no reason to talk, but he didn’t like the way the man was leering at him. 

“I might have to take her home with me when this is over. An uptight prick like you could never show her a good time,” Brecher taunted, his next strike quick and vicious, though Zelgius wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing how it shocked his hand. This sword was terribly made and rather ill balanced. It was a small wonder no one had been hurt. 

“The prize is a kiss, Sir. Lady Evelyn is not some trinket for you to carry away.” He didn’t like this man. He didn’t want to spend much longer in his presence if he didn’t have to. 

“Any woman will act like a whore if you ply her with enough wine.” Zelgius balked at that and that moment of hesitation was enough for Brecher to force him back a few paces, but he recovered quickly. Now he  _ really _ didn’t like this man. He’d had enough. He would put this man’s face in the dirt where it belonged. With that in mind, Zelgius began to change his own tactics. Normally, he was passive. He allowed his opponent to come to him and allowed them to tire themselves out before he would take them down, but now? This man had earned himself a taste of what he was truly capable of.

Brecher gave out a surprised shout as Zelgius lunged towards him, every cut and thrust sending him staggering back. He maintained a steady, practiced pace, his control over himself never wavering, but he could see in Brecher’s eyes that he understood the fury in his own. What might have worked to his advantage on another only made him more efficient. He would allow no threats or insults against his Lady. If this were a fight to the death, Brecher would be bleeding in the dirt by now. He was sloppy on defense, too. How had this man managed to survive so long?

Brecher tried to regain some measure of control on the duel, but surely he realized that was a waste of energy. He’d lost the moment he’d opened his mouth and allowed filth to come out of it. Brecher’s leg became unstable as he took another step back and Zelgius capitalized on his loss of balance, bringing his sword down onto his opponent's with the kind of strength he usually saved for his enemies, which sent the man sprawling. He lay there dazed a moment before attempting to get to his feet, but stumbled and sank to his knees. He’d been right when he’d thought the man looked tired, it seemed. Perhaps he’d been a mercenary or knight of some repute at one point, but he was clearly out of shape. 

“Do you yield, Sir?” the ringmaster asked. Brecher glared up at him as he fought to catch his breath before shifting his icy gaze to Zelgius. 

“You’d best keep close to that pretty little lass,  _ Sir _ ... I may call on her for some fun later, and I’d hate to see her cry, wouldn’t you?” It took everything within him to remain calm and not cave the man’s skull in for his threat, but Zelgius managed. He smiled coldly down at him, cocking his head slightly to the side. Did he truly think he was threatening while he wheezed like that?

“You could certainly try, but… if she did not gut you for your trouble, I most certainly would. Perhaps… you should leave now. I’d hate for something to  _ happen _ to you,” Zelgius breezed, his smile never slipping. Brecher rose and strode away, throwing his weapon down in a fit of petulant anger as he left the arena. To think a man his age would behave in such an unbecoming way. It was nearly embarrassing. 

“Ah… well… I can’t say I expected that, but we have our winner, ladies and gentlemen! It seems Sir Zelgius has managed to force his foe into capitulation.” There were still the few odd hisses and boos, but for the most part, it seemed the crowd had hoped for his victory. If he had to hazard a guess, Brecher hadn’t been a popular competitor. Zelgius bowed politely and made his way back towards the waiting area so that the final bout could commence. It was almost over now… he would be well on his way to linking arms with Evelyn and maybe…  _ ah later _ . He needed to put it out of his mind for now. The thought of kissing her made him feel weak in the knees, and now was a bad time for that. He looked down at his wrist, smiling softly at the handkerchief tied there. It still smelled of her a little and that soothed him, despite his earlier agitation. Regardless of what would soon come to pass, he would be able to spend time with her. For now, he needed to behave as her favored knight and win for her.

***

He could feel the blood draining from his face as he looked at the man standing across from him. Never in a thousand years would he have expected to see  _ him _ . Gawain… it just didn’t make sense to him, even though he knew this strange realm could make almost anything possible, but this had never seemed an option. Gawain smiled at him, his eyes strangely warm as he did. Zelgius recoiled as though struck, gritting his teeth. No. Gawain would never look at him in such a way, not even back then.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost, boy. What’s the matter?” Gawain laughed heartily, hoisting his axe up to rest on his broad shoulders. His voice was reedier than Zelgius remembered, but age did that, apparently. 

“You… look well for a dead man, Gawain,” Zelgius grunted, looking down and away. Goddess but he was still angry. Twenty years on and he still felt the pain of being abandoned. 

“You’re pouting, Zelgius. It’s unbecoming of a man your age.” Zelgius bristled at that, but said nothing. He was right, and that made him even angrier. He didn’t want to fight him. Once he would have, but now… knowing all that he knew and all that had come to pass since, his desire to measure himself against this man was gone. What was there to learn? What would he gain? Nothing. This only ripped open wounds he’d thought long healed. 

“Ladies and Gentlemen! Here we have the final bout, the one to end them all! Representing the Kingdom of Embla, we have Sir Greil and his opponent; the fearsome Black Knight himself, Sir Zelgius representing the Kingdom of Askr! Fighters, are you ready?” They raised their hands to indicate that they were, and readied themselves for what would come next. “Wonderful! Begin!” 

Neither bothered wasting time or taking time to study one another. Zelgius knew him well, and Gawain, for all his faults, could say the same. He’d taught him, after all. It was easy to find a rhythm. Block, parry, advance, fall back. If he let himself, he could almost pretend the man had never left him and that he’d been allowed to have a family at last, but… no. No, that was stupid and dangerous. He needed to close his heart to him and allow hate to replace the love he still held within, but… that was not so easily done. After so long of thinking about it, he knew that hatred was out of his reach. He would never be able to truly hate him.

“That’s a lovely young woman, Zelgius. Are you two… you know? Seeing each other?” Gawain asked. Now was hardly the time for such casual conversation, and why was he so interested in his life now? He hadn’t cared when he was a boy, so why care now?

“No.” He didn’t need to tell him anything. He didn’t need to know just what Evelyn was to him.

“Ah, so you  _ want _ to but haven’t for whatever reason. You always were such an awkward pup.” Gawain laughed then, the sound warm and kind, not unlike it had been back then--in the old days. “No wonder you’re so pissy. I’m standing between you and your Lady. I suppose you’ll just have to move me.” Gawain said, putting more force behind his blows. Zelgius scowled and retaliated with just as much force, but far more anger. 

“You clueless old _fool_. How is it that you don’t know?” Zelgius’ next strike sent Gawain stumbling back, but he caught himself before he could fall. He may have gotten older, but he was still sharp as he ever was, and not trying to protect a hot headed teenage boy, this time. “I’m not angry because of _her_. I’m angry because of _you_.” Zelgius advanced, twenty years worth of anger and sorrow slowly breaching the dam of his self control. “I’m not even _angry_. I’m _hurt_. **You** **abandoned me.** You left no word, you didn’t bother to say goodbye.” Each word was like salt in a fresh wound. His throat felt tight and his chest ached, but still he fought because that was the only way he knew how to communicate with this man. He was too focused on getting him to understand to realize that Gawain was allowing himself to be driven back. 

“I knew saying goodbye would hurt you. I wanted to spare your dignity, if not your feelings. I meant it as a kindness, though I can understand how it doesn’t feel that way.” 

“Why didn’t you just take me with you?!” Zelgius asked, his tone betraying the misery he felt. He would have gone if he’d asked. Gawain was all that had kept him in Daein, after all. The mercenary life… wouldn’t have been a bad one. Maybe he could have even stayed.

“Don’t be stupid, boy. You know why.” Zelgius took a deep breath at those words. It felt like knife had been plunged into his chest. Yes… he did know. He’d left him behind because he didn’t want him. He would have been a burden and a reminder of the life he was trying to leave behind. He already  _ had _ a family. He had a lovely wife who would go on to bear two lovely children, and  _ he _ ate too much and, despite not being that much younger than Gawain himself in numbers, he was still growing back then. He knew all this, but… it didn’t make it any easier. 

“Yes… well… somehow I still found myself cleaning up after you. Brilliant job, truly,” Zelgius snapped. Gawain’s face contorted in grief for a moment before evening back out. Oh yes. He knew of what he spoke. “I tire of this.” With a renewed sense of purpose and a fresh wave of anger, he drove Gawain back the final few paces, forcing him to step out of the ring with his left foot. 

“Out!” the ringmaster shouted. Zelgius ignored the crowd and the man screaming announcements. They didn’t matter. None of this mattered. Gawain smiled grimly at him, allowing his weapon to rest against the ground.

“I’m sorry this duel wasn’t a satisfying one, Zelgius. I imagine you’re disappointed.”

“You couldn’t give me a satisfying fight even if you’d been trying. You crippled yourself, you’ll never be what you were.” Zelgius straightened and stepped away, grateful to put distance between them. “You insult me yet again. It’s becoming a habit.” 

“You’re an easy target. You take things too personally, you always were like that. So sensitive.” Gawain smiled, turning away towards the exist. “Don’t let me keep you, boy. You should claim your prize, try to have a good time. You’ve always been too serious for your own good.” Zelgius wanted to retort, but a gentle hand on his wrist stopped him. He hadn’t realized Evelyn had joined him, though he’d known she would at the end. He looked down at her, his emotions settling slightly as he saw the concern in her eyes. She’d come to know him well. She knew that he was upset. 

“You okay, Darlin’?” She asked, reaching up to brush a sweaty lock of hair away from his forehead. He shuddered lightly at her touch, but remained still. 

“I will be. I just… didn’t expect to see him. We… talked.” 

“I’m sorry. If I could have warned you, I would have. Want to get this over with so we can leave?” she asked, her hands coming to rest against his shoulders. 

“Y-yes… we… I don’t…” She giggled lightly at his stammering, but the warmth in her gaze told him everything he needed to know. He bent slightly at the waist as she came up onto her toes, her hands sliding up to rest on the back of his neck, her fingers toying with his hair. He let his eyes slide shut as their lips met for a brief moment. It was simple and chaste; hardly what he was craving, but it ignited a need in him that he’d never known. She pulled away before he could indulge himself and embarrass them both, but he hoped she would allow him such a gift later. She giggled and forced him to turn to face the crowd, where they bowed and made their way, hand in hand, out of the arena.

“Do you want to stick around and watch the joust and melee, or do you just want to go somewhere else?” 

“I… uh… I don’t mind, as long as I’m with you.” He didn’t have any interest in either, though the melee would decide whether they would get the money or not. It would be good form and proper of them to remain behind and encourage their comrades, but… after speaking with Gawain, he really just wanted to go elsewhere. 

“Give me a real answer, Darlin’. What do  _ you _ wanna do?”

_ Kiss you _ . 

“We could take a walk around. I’m getting hungry.” She nodded and linked arms with him, seeming perfectly content to follow his lead. He took a steadying breath and began leading her towards the town square, where food vendors and people trying to sell trinkets and other useless things were set up. He wasn’t really sure what to do at a festival like this, but surely if they walked around together, they could find something to enjoy. “Let’s see what they have to eat, I suppose.”

***

Zelgius could feel his palms sweating as he took Evelyn’s hand and lead her slowly through the crowds in an effort to find a place to sit. More and more people were peeling off from the arena as the day dragged on. The melee would begin in a bit, but they seemed to be taking a break for supper. He could see members of the Order scattered throughout the crowd, but he didn’t have any interest in speaking with them. He was far too busy with the woman by his side.

“Do you have festivals like this one where you come from, Evelyn?” He asked, sipping at his wine as he settled himself on one of the low benches scattered throughout the town square. 

“Kind of, I guess? They’re like this but kind of a bad imitation. You can still have fun at them, but I think this is probably the better experience,” Evelyn said, allowing her fingers to trail over the back of his hand. He turned it over on the table between them in a silent offer, but she surprised him by tracing the lines of his palm instead. “I never had you at any other festival, so that definitely counts for something.” Zelgius felt his cheeks turn red, but didn’t try to hide from her. He’d learned his lesson. Hiding from her would always do more harm than good.

“I suppose I could say the same… I never… really got to enjoy things like this. Despite everything, I’ve had a good day.”

“I’m glad. You were a little glum there for a bit.” She yawned then, stretching her arms overhead. “Man I’m getting sleepy. I know we should probably stick around and watch the melee, but… I kinda just wanna finish eating and go back to camp. What do you think?”

“I’d be happy with that. We’ve had a long day… and tomorrow will be long as well. And… I’d like to get out of this.”

“That’s a shame… I like the way it looks on you. You look handsome,” Evelyn said, reaching out to tuck a bit of hair behind his ear. “Not that you don’t always.” Zelgius chuckled awkwardly, catching her hand in his as she went to pull away.

“You flatter me.” 

“It ain’t flattery if it’s true,” she murmured, lacing their fingers as she leaned over the table towards him. His breath hitched as she gently brushed her nose against his, her eyelids drooping slightly. He couldn’t be sure if it was the wine finally catching up with her, or if she were truly that pleased to be so close to him, but he sincerely hoped it was the latter. 

“Hey! There you two are!” Evelyn pouted and pulled back, frowning up at Anna as she came to stand next to their table. “I haven’t seen you since this morning. Everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine. How’re things on your end?”

“Well, we’ll know for sure in a bit, but so far so good. I made the right call picking General Seth for the joust, it seems.You did well out there, General Zelgius. You really gave them quite a show.”

“I could have done better.” He shrugged, remembering just how dull the first few fights had been. 

“Well, the final two fights you were in were pretty exciting, if you ask me. Ike and the others were ecstatic to see him again--” she turned to Evelyn, an uncharacteristically soft look on her face, “are you going to attempt to summon him once this is all over?”

“If I can find a place to do it, sure. I know there’s a summoning stone of two scattered around Nifl, so it might be worth trying.” She gave him a sidelong glance, as though concerned about his reaction. 

“General Gawain is… weaker than he once was, but he would still be a strong addition. I think it would be in our interest to try.” He nodded his affirmation, returning to his wine. It was some sort of blackberry affair, and he was fairly certain it would taste far better on her tongue than it did in the glass.

“Well, I’d say that’s quite the endorsement,” Anna said, grinning down at them. “So, are you two coming to watch the melee, or…?”

“I think we’re probably going to head back to camp after we finish eating, hon. It’s been a long day, so I wouldn’t mind calling it an early night. It’d be nice to take a nice long bath while everyone’s gone.” 

“That sounds like a plan… I wish I’d thought of that. Well, I’ll let you both know how things went! Get some rest.” Anna’s tone was playful as she threw them a conspiratory wink. “Don’t let me keep you.”

“She thinks we’re about to go back to camp and fuck.” Evelyn’s tone was amused, her hazel eyes locked on the woman’s retreating back. Zelgius coughed, thumping himself on the chest as he tried to process the information. They’d hardly even kissed and someone would think  _ that _ ? 

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean for anyone to make such assumptions… I…” 

“Why are you apologizing?” Evelyn asked.

“I don’t know I just… I don’t want people to assume such things about you… I’d never want to give you a reputation,” Zelgius said, keeping his voice low enough that none would hear.

“I ain’t worried about it, Darlin’. If she wants to think that, that’s her business… and whether we do or not is ours.” He stared at her as she drained her glass and finished her dessert, stacking her dishes neatly in the center of the table. Zelgius swallowed hard and forced himself to follow her example, rising to his feet when she did. “I can’t say it ain’t an appealing thought.” 

“I uh… ahem… I suppose I can’t, either… but…” He couldn’t look her in the eye as he stammered out his reply. She giggled and hugged his arm, her head resting against him briefly. 

“Relax. I’m just putting it out there for future reference. Let’s go back. I want that bath.” Zelgius took a deep breath and nodded, walking arm in arm with her as they made their way back to camp. It had been a long day, but… he really had enjoyed it. He hoped they could have more days like this one in the future.


End file.
